April 17, 2011 by Winston Lee

Some people have accused me of being illogical. They say that I speak nonsense. But in fact, it is they who are absurd. Their minds are confused. They imagine that their thoughts are clear, but they are completely clouded over. They cannot concentrate. They say that I am distracted, but they are missing everything in their lives. I am in tune with the essential harmony of the universe, but they are creating their own false contrary wavelengths in a pointless effort to cancel out everything natural and real. They say that I contribute nothing to society, when it is they who are ruining society for the sake of their own selfish personal gain. They do not flow with the natural current, but instead vainly try to dam it up. Sooner or later, they will be overwhelmed by reality, just as a wall of sand must yield to the incoming tide. And I will laugh, because I have been sitting above them, looking down and pitying them all. They fancifully imagine that I am below them. They are lost in delusion.

The true measure of a soul is its capacity to overcome itself and annihilate itself. Rejection of deceptive outward forms is needed. Quiet acceptance is required, because ostracism and destitution for the enlightened is the usual sentence handed down by the insatiable leadership of the covetous and ambitious. With the fires of the inner war, the dead flesh of hypocrisy is burned to gray ash, which is carried off on the breeze as far as the fields of honor and righteousness, whose soil it must enrich. From these fields grow flowers of justice, vegetables of loyalty, and fruits of compassion. These nourish the serpent of wordless wisdom, which swallows whole all complete thoughts. Even now yours have descended into its bottomless gullet. Mine have done so as well, but have emerged from the void as fragrant roses, which at this very moment are perfuming your metaphysical nostrils.

What is logic? It is insufficient. I categorically reject this term because it has become the exclusive property of the dark lords, who are cruel and arrogant beings that furiously type their fingers to bloody nubs writing endless volumes of pompous and meaningless books choked with footnotes and references that fill interminable rows of library shelves. They are like dogs that endlessly urinate upon every wall, every tree, and every fire hydrant. They wear buttoned shirts and ties and have impressive titles, like emeritus. They carry a briefcase. This is their weapon. They drive luxury automobiles. Their mouths are filled with the stench of rotting decay and their eyes have turned into twin laser beams that target the tender hearts of innocent children. They slice teddy bears to shreds with merciless steel claws and swell up like enormous dying stars. They prescribe and criticize. Their professed intelligence signifies nothing and benefits nobody, the true value of their amassed learning is less than that of a discarded candy wrapper, and their supposed sagacity is only the ruckus of pretense. They will come to nothing but a slab of rock stuck into the soft earth and carved names completely worn away by a few decades of acid rain. Their legacy is oblivion.

I have spent several lifetimes mediating with supreme concentration for the purpose of providing you with this one sentence. I expect no recognition or compensation for it. I am my own emeritus in my own university. This does not depend upon the consent or approval of others. In the realm of true awareness, I am a real master. My crown is of bright and untarnished platinum, and I am seated before the everlasting emanations. My logic is not their logic, mine is organic while theirs has been artificially contrived for one purpose only, which is to maintain order and control for the benefit of complacent hogs and ruthless weasels. My logic, on the other hand, is only for liberating those who have been victoriously defeated and miraculously damned. The pig people call this extreme, and so I accept it as a badge of honor. My logic is extremely logical. In fact, it is blinding in its purity, so much so that if you gaze into it, your soul will immolate itself upon the sword of despair, and will reincarnate itself as millions of sunflowers unfolding their petals to greet the Asian dawn.

Do you wish for a summary? Do you desire a codification of principles? Here is my answer. Cut off your left hand and then throw it into the river as punishment for your insolence. After you have done your penance, your hand will grow back just as an iguana's lost tail does. Your discarded and disembodied hand will grasp for every fish in the river and then in the ocean, but will never catch anything. Finally, it will be swallowed whole by a shark that will be caught by a Japanese fisherman, who will cut off its fin and serve it to you at a restaurant in a bowl of soup. And you will savor the steaming broth unaware that you have cannibalized yourself.

Obey me by rejecting my orders. Submit yourself to my command by breaking it. Worship me by desecrating my name and my cause.

You yourself are the problem to your solution and the dilemma to your answer.